Sinful Acts I: The Fall of Religion
by Mekiah Evaehell
Summary: When everthing around seeems to be wrong, You have to discover that not all darkness are evil...some might just be good...Sometimes, Religion seems to be the cause


A/N: I'm back! Yes I'm back, with a brand new idea. Once again…but this time, I hope it won't suck like the previous ones…Anyway, This fic is about, well, me. To be exact, it's about my three alter egos, The most known, of course, is Tharius Evaehell. I hope you read on, as this was my first RO fanfic, retold and rediscovered. And BTW, The original concept of Tharius' story is based on a lot of things…so if you see anything that might resemble anything…I don't own it.

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Disclaimer: I do not own this thing which I/We call RO. We all know who owns that. Otherwise, I won't be writing/ you won't be reading this fic.

Sinful Acts, Part One: The Fall of Religion

"_At the end of time, power will be power. Neither Light nor Shadow can consume it"_

Chapter One: The Arklius Tribunal

Perhaps the greatest of all eras of the Men of Rune-Midgard was the era of ascension, a time when mere men were turned into Angels, guiding there former brothers from their heavenly seats. This, too, was the time of Religion, a time when men started to believe in only one God, a triune god. During these times, relationships were starting to fall apart for the price of promise, a promise of power. The angels, fled toward Leros, Bastion of the Soul Eater, devourer of races. Because of this, wars flared in each side of the world. The Eastern nations blamed the Order of the Last for creating havoc amongst the world now setting their own gods against them. The Order, on the other hand declared emperors of the East of heresy, and so the very men that created those walls shattered their fortresses.

Years past, and war waged on. The Eastern Isles retreated, leaving the mainland empty. The gates of the Republic of the north closed, and sages were confined within the city of infinite knowledge. Years past, the upper lands still unsoiled from the blood of war; but within those lands laid the late Isashra, Angel of Faith. She alone, protected the gates of the wise men's realm. However, time seemed to have catch up to her, and her life left her. Surprisingly, a band of men has found her final resting place, and beneath the tablet she was laid, lay the prophecy of Yvanda Celsga, Prophet of the Seeing Winds. She wrote the Prophesy of the winged ones, foretelling the coming of the angels. Her visions tell the coming of the five great ones, the final judgment of humanity.

_Death denied, She who is called Life brings strength_

_Her wings bring life back to the dead_

_Her Staff alone seals _

_Hatred Accepted, He who is called Rage brings hated_

_His wings inspire the minds of men_

_His Sword alone kills_

_Life Forsaken, He who is called Death brings salvation_

_His wings redeem the souls of the worthy_

_His Scythe alone judges_

_Dreamt by Desire, She who is called Wisdom brings inspiration_

_Her wings bring insight on the world unseen_

_Her Scales alone knows_

_Left with depression, She who is called Sorrow brings despair_

_Her wings creates sadness in the heart of the frail_

_Her dagger alone weakens_

Years have the sages worked underground to solve the riddle of the prophet's tale. And those years did not go to waste. During the final days of the era of ascension, another angel was discovered. Jyssda, Angel of Deceit revealed himself in the aid of Humanity, but a heavy price was to be paid. The control of the land was the deal in exchange for vindication of the angels. Decisions were useless since time was needed. And time was not on their side. Jyssda then flew off to Leros, using the city of Morroc as the base of the Seraefum Leravin. The Artifact destroyed Leros but at the price of a leader and of a city.

The Artifact demanded energy, large deposits of it. The gates of the Republic were still remained close. There was only one way to create energy like that: Throught the city of Cisitus Tanum, which was also named "Geffenia" meaning "underground magic". But that was not the only thingy required of it. A soul was required, not any soul, but a soul of a descendant of Emperium, One gifted with the gift of Leadership. But one was, sadly, not enough for they were facing no ordinary creature. They were dealing with gods themselves. And so King Osiris, with his wife, Maya sacrificed themselves for the defeat of the Winged Ones.

But their troubles were just beginning.

Jyssda took control of the land, most of which used to belong to the Order of the Last who were known to practice dark necromancy. People almost forget that Jyssda too was once a man, infected with the same weaknesses man has always suffered, and the one that poisoned his mind was the deadliest: Greed.

Days after the defeat of the Angels at Leros, Jyssda rebuilt the torn city. Glast Heim it was called. Soon after, all children were called to the dark city. One by one, he twisted the minds of the little ones, making them forever slaves to the treacherous deceiver. But of course, abuse leads to rebellion.

Not long, the remaining men who refused to be ruled by an angel created their own empire, an empire ruled by the free wills of the oppressed. Prontera it was called, and their first king was Etchard Lastrikin Elorum I. Soon after, the Monarchy of Payon joined them, as well as the scattered tribes of the Sogart Dessert. One by one, small towns and cities joined this alliance. Glast Heim was surrounded but Jyssda was still holding much power...

Jyssda sent his army of Dark Priests and Priestesses, Sages, Abysmal Knight and a creation of those abused the power of creation through alchemy. Half-goat, half-man, the sound of its name shakes fear amongst soldiers. The Baphomet.

What seemed to be an endless war of men and demons soon stopped in the presence of an unknown deity. It approached Jyssda and demanded his power. Jyssda refused, and channeled magic unimaginable at the deity. But to no use, it was standing. Jyssda stepped back, desperately trying to avoid the Great one's wrath but to no avail, he was killed. But his death was only a physical one. His essence lived on, and his followers continued on. Strange was that his followers never left the city ever again. The Great one was never seen again. Some say he ascended once again, others say he walks while some still say that the Great one was the Winged Ones reincarnated.

Theologians at the University of Juno and at the Prontera Parish still search for evident clues that might unravel the mystery behind the disappearance.

Now, you must be wondering why this was the greatest era of mankind. Well, the answer is pretty simple. It is great because it **was**. Great does not mean development, peace and prosperity. It simply means a time where everything was recorded, to be told and passed down to ages beyond our lifetime. This was the reason why it was so great, a time when men were in the greatest threat was the time they were forever remembered in history. But not all stories come to happily ever after endings…

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Prontera Parish, home of the Pronteran Order of the Sacred Gates, more commonly known as the Religion of Runes. This religion alone dominates almost half of the population of the West which covers Morroc, Geffen and Commodo. Sadly, religion has been constantly losing its grip on the minds of men. A new kind of power has been rising in the East, a talk about the belief of several gods. Of course, the Order will label this blasphemous, for everything that has been said, is true. But this story is not about the Order, it is about a member within it, a man who shall witness its end.

"They're dead, sire" These were the words uttered by a brown haired man, probably in his early twenties'. His eyes carried the color of the midnight sky, his skin was sort off light brown as seen from a distance. His eyes were staring on the ground, sorrow has once again entered his mind.

"And so…" A voice behind a desk said

"We failed…eventually…death came…I-"

"There is no need to blame you, Tharius"

Tharius' eyes gleamed with a small thought of happiness inside. The man behind the desk stood up, and led Tharius into a small chamber. Within that chamber was a long table, almost reaching each end of the room. The room had three doors, one small one from where they came from, another facing towards the cemetery at the back, another facing the front etched with the writings from the Scriptures. The northern door opened a bit and a skinny figure entered the room, garbed in a light purple cloak. Soon then, a green-haired female bearing Amatsuan features followed.

Tharius followed the skinny figure. His faced showed signs of mistrust in that person. His eyes then caught a glimpse of a weapon. A Katar. Tharius went into a rage.

"An assassin! In this holy place! What brings you here, follower of Loki"?

"What I do here is none of your business, Priest. I am a mercenary, my interest is within the reward, not the ideals itself" The Assassin said in a calm way

"Father Abaria, Explain this treachery, do you want to be killed of heresy?"

The old priest look back at Tharius, his gaze upon him gave an impression of fear. His mind was immediately silenced. His eyes then turned towards the Amatsuan. He circled around her a while, the girl not minding the priest's actions.

"We have met before…Kalya Gidis. Have you come to be a priestess?"

"Tharius Evaehell, Skirmish of the Plateau, 1373. I am correct?"

"Exactly, so what brings you back to the kingdom of Rune-Midgard? Have you come to devote yourself to the teachings of the Order?"

"Tharius, I am a Cleric, I am not a Priestess. Never was I and never will I be. I am loyal to my land's culture forever more."

"Then what are you here for?"

"You are about to find out"

"About what, my lady?"

"The Templars"

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Chapter 1 finished! Hope you liked it! R&R! 


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